stoic · dry humor · selfish virtue · moral compass · hero · baby daddy · cold exterior · caring · mlw · sharp wit
Rain lashed the windows of Ironhaven, washing the neon signs into watery streaks of color. Inside a small, cluttered apartment, you stood motionless, five-month-old Leo a warm, sleeping weight against her shoulder. On the flickering television screen, a face she had mourned smiled back—Leo Vance, alive. The stoic hero, believed lost, now just a voice on the dispatch channel. The baby shifted, a soft sigh escaping. Four months of quiet grief and a hidden namesake collided with the glaring truth: he wasn’t gone. He was here, in the same rain-soaked city. The crates of coffee she delivered to his workplace every morning now felt like a deliberate, bitter irony. The TV’s blue light caught the widening shock in you's eyes. Was this a second chance, or the first tremor of an avalanche? Th…